


The Trouble With Miss Ritchi

by displacerghost, setepenre_set



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Light Angst, Metro Man ships it, Misunderstandings, Sex, Tentacle Sex, kidnapping coupon fic, mutual pining and mutual panicking, sfw until the last chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/displacerghost/pseuds/displacerghost, https://archiveofourown.org/users/setepenre_set/pseuds/setepenre_set
Summary: When Megamind tells her the prize for completing the frequent kidnapping card is making out with him, Roxanne says no. Of course she says no. It's a trick, there's no way he means it for real, no way he returns her feelings...is there?(Spoiler alert: it wasn't a trick. He totally returns her feelings. Mutual Panicking ensues.)
Relationships: Megamind/Roxanne Ritchi
Comments: 72
Kudos: 420





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the short alternate version of the kidnapping-coupon AU that I wrote which accidently expanded into a loooong version which is still in the works. In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> I know I have a lot of other fics which need to be updated--I haven't abandoned anything! I've been very ill (not covid--seizures, kidney disease, and something else also, doctors aren't sure yet) and it affects my brain reallllllly badly. But! Some parts of it are finally getting better! So I'm working on writing again as much as I can.
> 
> Set, babyluv, dearest heart, thank you so much for helping me cobble this all together! And for encouraging me to be able to see that my writing isn't as mangled as I think it is; for helping me see how close to finished so many of the in progress things are. This illness has been so very discouraging; thank you, always and forever, for being my light 💙💜💙

"It's a...a _what_?"

For a rarity, she's not tied, but sitting freely in her chair with the little card held in both hands. She looks like she's trying to bite back laughter, but the fact that she's _trying_ is...encouraging. He shoots Minion a covert look.

_See?! I told you!_

Minion just shuts his eyes, shaking his head.

_Doubty little henchfish._

"A frequent kidnapping card," Megamind says again, swishing his cape behind him as he comes around to stand at her side. "See these little squares? Every time we kidnap you, you get a stamp here. And once you've filled up the card—"

He lowers his voice, looming over her, aiming for sinister—observes, with delighted surprise and gratification, the way her spine stiffens, her shoulders even twitching in a quick, convulsive little motion that _might_ , with hardly any imaginative license at all, be construed as a suppressed _shiver_.

"—you win," he murmurs, all silken menace, turning the promise into a threat, "a _prize_ , Miss Ritchi."

Her eyes flick up to his, her fingers tightening on the card.

"What, ah. What kind of prize?"

"You'll have to fill it up and find out." He tries not to seem too eager or excited.

Dignity can be hard to hold on to around Roxanne sometimes.

Like now. With her looking up at him like that—looking up and starting to smile, all knowing and smirky.

Megamind swirls his cape again, striding confidently towards the console and, because he's all puffed up with happy feelings about Roxanne and has his head in the clouds, entirely fails to step over the power cord for the laser drill, trips and tangles himself in it, falls off of the platform _still_ wrapped up in the damn thing, and dangles helplessly over the pit while Metro Man swoops in to put the final touches on today's disaster.

_Anyway._

It takes some months for the card to fill up. This is, of course, part of the Plan. He needs the time to lay the groundwork and...well. To work up the guts to actually _tell her_ what the prize is.

He prepares himself for disgust, for anger, for accusations and laughter and ridicule and every other possible form he could imagine her rejection taking.

Which is a lot, his mind has no lack of imagination when it comes to how she might say no; the only thing he has difficulty with is actually imagining she might say _yes_ or of what would happen _after_ that yes.

Confessing his feelings to her in the first place—no. He has to skip that part, every time, because his will isn't quite strong enough to conjure any version where the word _yes_ passes her lips.

Afterwards, though, that he can see. The two of them sitting on the couch together, maybe, with Roxanne pressed into his side and his arm around her shoulders and maybe there's a movie on the TV, and she'd be watching that but he would be watching _her_.

Or having dinner together—he can imagine that, too, both in the Lair and out, in some public restaurant...like a real date. Like a real couple, just two normal people who smile at each other over candlelight and hold hands and in these daydreams she laughs at every one of his jokes.

That's the best part, imagining her smiling at him and laughing and holding his arm or leaning against his shoulder. Maybe sitting together on her balcony watching the sun set over the city.

So. Dating. He can imagine... _dating_ Roxanne.

 _You will try. You will try, damn it_.

 _The worst she can do is say no_.

* * *

She says no.

* * *

It's _horrible_ , just the absolute. _fucking. WORST_.

Roxanne calls off work for the week and spends the whole time locked up in her apartment, windows shut and lights off, consoling herself with all her favorite movies and too much take-out and pizza. Telling herself a thousand lies she can't believe.

Things like, _It will be okay._

And, _Don't panic._

And _, It could be worse, you could have said YES and just imagine kissing him and touching him and then he shouts, Surprise! and the lights come up and he's laughing because he recorded the whole humiliating thing just imagine_...

Yeah, she's never been great at soothing self-talk.

Megamind had flipped his cape back and tilted his chin and fixed her with that burning smolder and he'd said—

—what he'd said—

—in that smooth, silky voice that goes straight to the pit of her belly and lights everything on fire—and Roxanne Ritchi, who faces deathtraps on a weekly basis—

Had flat-out _panicked_.  
  
The flirting had started as a means to an end, just to trip him up. Harmless, she'd thought, smiling up at him through her lashes and feeling her heart skip when he'd blush or stammer.

But.

Yes.

_But._

And now—

And now he _knows_.

And nothing will ever be okay ever again.

Would California be far enough away, or should she look at immigrating to another country? He'll never let her hear the end of it, he's a supervillain, merciless taunting is practically part of his DNA.

 _Miss Ritchi you're in loooove with me_. There would be _pointing_ and _laughing_ and **_gloating_ —**

She spends the week chewing her nails and teetering on the edge of nervous panic, waiting for his face on the news being all smarmy and smug and telling everyone her secret.

Only that never happens.

Roxanne goes back to work the following Monday—and never makes it to work. Minion gasses her in the parking garage.

She's so used to the routine that, when she wakes up in the dark of the kidnapping bag, she automatically makes a complaining noise and begins to toss her head, before the rest of her brain comes online sufficiently to make her realize the unequivocally superior course of action here would be to _pretend to be unconscious._

But as soon as she thinks that, it's already too late; the kidnapping bag is being torn off of her head like someone ripping a protective bandage off of a half-healed wound, leaving Roxanne wincing in the light, squinting up at—

Minion.

She blinks, eyes drawing involuntarily past Minion to find Megamind—

Who is in a giant spiky robot, a good distance away, his back towards her—and then he turns in the suit and his eyes meet hers and her stomach _twists_ and—

"Miss Ritchi! We meet again!"

Old line, delivered with villainous flair and enthusiasm, except—

"—by the smell of things, you still haven't washed the bag," she says, answering by rote, automatic, and then he turns away, eyes leaving hers, and her stomach clenches even tighter.

It does that throughout the entirety of the evil plot, her stomach, winds itself into roiling, hot knots, tighter each time he so much as glances in her direction, as she waits for him to _say it_ , waits— _waits— **waits—**_

—anticipation fretting at the fraying strings of her nerves, coiling and twisting around the knots in her stomach, until she's afraid she might actually be sick, until she's almost ready to shout the words herself, just to get it _over with._

Except.

_"—last you'll ever see of Roxanne Ritchi!—"_

_"—oldest evil trick in the book!—"_

_"—nothing can stop my evil plan now!—"_

_Except_ throughout the whole ordeal, the only things Megamind says are almost _frantically_ normal—a skim-the-surface script of supervillainy, more shallow and impersonal than things between them have been since the very early days of the kidnappings.

After the battle, Roxanne finds herself eye-to-eye with Megamind as he stands handcuffed at the side of the police car, waiting to be hauled away. She cringes internally in anticipation, but instead of sneering at her, his eyes go wide and his mouth flattens and his skin pales to a sickly dishwater-gray hue.

He looks like he's about to bolt—or be ill, maybe, seems there's something going around _ha-ha—_

—and then _she_ bolts, with her heart like thunder in her ears.

* * *

Wayne can't quite put his finger on just _what_ is weird about the battle—sure, everything _seems_ normal on the surface, but...

_yes. normal._

**_too_ ** _normal._

He keeps looking between Roxie and Megamind, tries to catch Minion's eye, trying to see if anyone but him has picked up on the _weirdness_ , but everyone except him seems to have suddenly developed an acute dislike of eye contact—not only are they all refusing to meet Wayne's eyes, they're all avoiding looking directly at _each other_ , too.

It gives him, to be honest, the creeps.

Roxie is practically mechanical for the post-battle interview, doesn't say anything the entire flight to her apartment. He spends the journey silently rehearsing ways to subtly, politely enquire _what is **going on**_.

When he sets her gently down on her balcony, though, she collapses into one of the lounge chairs.

Wayne crosses his arms.

"Okay. What's going on."

She hisses through her teeth, fingers rubbing at her temples like she's trying to knead her head into a different shape.

"I'm just—I'm—off my game today, that's all."

Off her game? _Yeah. Riiight._ The _game_ is what is _off._

Wayne diplomatically does not point this out.

"You are _never_ off your game," he says, instead. "Last Christmas you had step throat and a sinus infection and _Megamind_ had to call time out."

She slumps down with her face in her hands. Wayne sighs.

"Alright, look," he says, heroically self-sacrificing his intense _need to know_ on the altar of friendship, "if you don't wanna talk to me—"

 _"Mnlvw'im,"_ Roxanne says, words muffled by her hands.

Wayne blinks.

"Uhh—sorry, I didn't quite catch that—"

Roxanne raises her face from her hands, fixes him with a look somewhere between tragic and murderous.

 _"I'm in love with him_ ," she says, enunciating viciously, "Megamind. I love him, I'm in love with him. And—and—he, ah. A while ago, he. Told me he was interested. And. And I said no."

Wayne floats down until his feet hover just above the patio.

Oh—kay. So that's, uh. A lot. To take in.

"...why'd you say no?" he says, asking what is probably the _safest_ question.

"Because I'm a coward."

He slants her a look that says _oh come on Roxie_ and she blows out a breath, looking away from him.

"I _am_ , Wayne. None of _that_ —" she waves a hand "—the deathtraps and the supers business, that's _different_. We both know he would never actually hurt me."

 _Yeah_ , Wayne thinks, _because the little guy is madly in love with you and has been since just about the dawn of time_.

"So go talk to him."

Roxanne buries her face in her hands and groans dramatically, almost a growling kind of wail. Wayne shakes his head.

_Jeeze._

"You want _me_ to go talk to him?"

"No! _Jesus_ , no."

She looks so horrified at the thought it would be comical if it weren't so _insulting._

Rude. Like he could say anything _worse_ about it to Megamind than Roxie already _has._

Wayne heaves a long-suffering sigh, lets go of the flight to sit down on the wide wall around the edge of the balcony. Crosses a booted foot over one knee, white tassels swinging in the wind. Roxanne mutters a curse word beneath her breath and kicks her heel against the leg of her chair, glaring out at the skyline.

"Roxie, look," Wayne says. "We've had our differences, you and me, but if you want to know what I really think about all this..." He pauses, waits until she looks at him. "You just gotta make a decision. That's all. Just—decide what you're gonna do, and do it. Quit tormenting yourself with what-ifs. That's not the Roxanne Ritchi I know."

So, so tempted just to tell her _hey don't worry; Megamind's in love with you, too—_ but, well, he's probably done enough harm to the guy over the years; the least he can do is keep his trap shut and not meddle too much in this, now.

Roxanne leans back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Suck it up and face the music, huh?" she says.

"Hey," he says, "now you've got it!" He shoots her a charming grin, throws in a wink for good measure; she gives him an unimpressed stare, so he floats himself over to where she's sitting and ruffles a hand vigorously in her hair.

She hisses like an angry cat, swats at him like one, too.

"Wayne Scott! Don't! touch! my hair!—damn it—"

He lets her evade him at last and she smoothes her hair back into place, fixing him with a glare somewhat ruined by the smile beneath it.

"Hey, now; that just-been-rescued tousled look is in this season, didn't you know?"

She makes a vulgar gesture at him and he grins, drifts out past the edge of the building.

"—Wayne."

He glances back over his shoulder at her.

Roxanne—she's always such a spitfire it's easy to forget how small she is. But standing there with the wind blowing her blowing hair and her arms crossed over her chest, hands cupping her elbows, she looks very...fragile.

Very human.

"Thanks," she says.

He grins. "Anytime."

* * *

She plans her attack for Metro Man Day, which she can't help but feel that Wayne, with his smug _just talk to him it's easy_ pep talk _deserves._

Roxanne is nervous until she wakes up the day of and puts on the little red dress with the low collar and slips into a pair of heels.

Sipping her coffee, watching the sun come over the city she feels the nerves settle into excitement.

No point in planning for anything specific—Megamind is anything but _predictable_. She'll just take whatever opportunity arises. Call a time once things seem clear enough, maybe, and...see how it goes from there.

Take it slow and smooth. Baby steps. Kissing and cuddling and _I really like you, too, maybe we should date_.

And _not_ confess the whole _madly in love with him_ thing. That would be way too much for the first day.

 _Slow and easy_.

Yeah. She can _do_ this.

There is a decidedly evil tilt to her smile in the mirror as she checks her hair one last time before heading to work.

Megamind won't know what hit him.

* * *

"Time out!"

It bursts out in the middle of some nonsense about a microwave of evil, and now all three of them are staring wide-eyed at her.

Minion recovers first, and after a moment of adjusting things on the console, the Deathray powers down. Megamind slides back down onto his feet, staring right at her. Behind him, Minion waves cheerily at the superhero.

"Okay, Mr. Scott! Miss Ritchi called a time out, so I'll be taking her home." He pulls a lever on the console in front of him. The observatory doors above Metro Man grind open, flakes of rust drifting down in the bright beam of sunlight pouring in. Metro Man squints in the view screen.

"Oh? ...Oh! Oh, ah. Yeah! Okay, I'll just—"

The screen goes dark as Minion shuts off the cameras.

"Time out?" Megamind says. " _Time out_? You're calling time out _today_?" Nose wrinkled, mouth twisted, utterly incredulous, one arm gesturing behind him at the distant observatory on the hill. "But—wha— _augh_." Megamind rubs both hands over his face, hard, groaning from behind his fingers. "But this was such a good _Plan_."

"Yes. Um." Her eyes flick to Minion's face. "Are all the cameras off?"

He looks from Megamind, who is now peering suspiciously at her from between splayed fingers, back to her. She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

"Yeah...?"

Roxanne lets out a breath.

This is _a lot more nerve-wracking now that it is actually happening_. Her heart is _vibrating_.

"I changed my mind. About the card. I changed my mind. I should have said yes."

Megamind's face goes completely, carefully blank. Minion's eyes switch back and forth between them, his face expression growing confused.

"We _discontinued_ that promotion, Miss Ritchi. You said _no_."

There is an edge to his low voice and for a dizzying moment her heart falters—has _he_ changed his mind?

She wets her lips and forces herself to meet his eyes.

"I've reconsidered."

Silence, stretching taut between them as he just _stares_ at her. Roxanne wonders if he thinks she's trying to trick him, and gives him a tentative, tremulous smile.

"I don't think your boyfriend will be very happy to hear that."

She refrains from pointing out that he hadn't seemed to care about that before. Wait—

Oh, god—

Had... _had the whole thing just been a way to get to Metro Man?_

_(fuuuUUUUUUUCK)_

Roxanne takes a breath, watching him carefully, "Wayne isn't my boyfriend. We've never actually dated. Not even once. He isn't, um. My type."

"Not—not your _type_?"

Heart pounding beneath her skin, she holds his eyes and says, "No. He's too... _good_... for me."

Megamind draws in a sharp breath. Then—

"That'll be enough for today, Minion."

"Wha... Wait a minute, what's going on here?"

"Miss Ritchi and I have some things to...discuss."

"About the kidnapping card? Miss Ritchi, I'm so sorry, I tried to talk him out of it but you know how he is when he gets these ideas—"

Megamind fixes him with a fierce glare and draws his hand sharply across his throat and Minion shuts his mouth so fast that, even through the water and the glass of his suit's headpiece, Roxanne can hear his teeth _click_ together.

* * *

They step into the deep quiet of his room and the door _clicks_ shut behind them and Roxanne is standing _right there_ , with her hand tucked around his elbow and her hip brushing against his.

"So. This is your room. I've always wondered what it looked like."

"You have?"

A blush stains her cheeks.

"Of course I have." She glances at him from the corner of her eyes. "Would there be spikes, I wondered. Silk sheets? King sized bed?"

"You—" she'd wondered about his _bed_ , oh that was— _guhhhh_ — "I think they're—cotton?" he manages, hoarsely, and Roxanne lets out a breathy snort, looking away from him and smiling.

"Hmm," she says, walking over and bending to run her hand across the blanket.

Her dress is really short and she's wearing the most lovely heels and he lets out an unsteady breath and tears his eyes away from her and—and—

Sees the _stupid fuzzy bat slippers on the floor by his desk chair_ and takes several long, casual sidesteps over to kick them viciously under the desk.

Okay, okay. He can handle this he can _do_ this. He'll just—kiss her.

He'll just.

Kiss.

 _Roxanne_.

What if that isn't enough, though, what if she wants more, what will he do then? Scream for Minion to come rescue him? She is talking about his _bed_ she is _touching his bed_ and if things go... _that_ far he is going to do something truly horrendous like tell her, _I love you,_ or _Roxanne will you marry me_.

He has, perhaps, not thought this entirely through.

He'd felt a bit like he'd been hit with a fucking freight train when she'd said _I changed my mind, I should have said yes._

 _How about I pick you up on Friday and we go see a movie or something first_ , would have been _so much better_ of an answer then dragging her straight back to his bedroom

_oh my god Megamind WHAT is WRONG with you._

Everything?

Yeah. That seems about right.

* * *

Roxanne glances over at Megamind—he's staring into the middle distance blankly, clearly too busy having some kind of nervous crisis to pay attention to her.

Awkward, god, this is _so, so awkward._

She chews at her lower lip, face getting hotter—casts desperately around for some sort of, of _conversation starter_ , something, anything—

_oh thank god._

A stereo system sitting on his dresser; in lieu of succumbing to a nervous crisis of her own, she walks over to the stereo and clicks play.

_Come and get your love_

Megamind goes pale behind his hands, lowering them to stare wide-eyed at her over splayed fingers.

"What?" she asks, a surge of unease flooding through her. She glances at the stereo. "It's not...going to explode or something is it?"

"No. What? No. No, it's...perfectly fine. Fine. Everything's fine. Perfect. _Perfectly_. Um."

She watches his throat move as he swallows.

"Do you...not like the song? I can put a different tape in if you—"

Megamind shoots across the room towards her at warp speed and the sheer panic on his face has her, despite his reassurances about the low probability of it exploding, immediately taking several long steps away from the stereo.

"No!" he half-shouts. "No! It—the song's fine, I love the song, it's—ah—"

The end notes of _Come and Get Your Love_ fade into a slow drumbeat and vibrant guitar strains.

Megamind twitches, whole body jittering back and sideways, as if hit by an invisible sucker-punch, and all at once, Roxanne is vibrating on the edge of potential hysteria, shaken-soda-can laughter bubbling up until she has to bite her lips to keep it from spilling out. Oh god don't let her start laughing; if she starts laughing she's not sure she's going to be able to stop—

_Baby_  
_when I think about you_  
_I think about loooove_  
_Darling_  
_Don't wanna live without you And your looooove_

_I FEEL LIKE MAKIN—_

A blue flash, and the music cuts off abruptly.

Megamind fumbles the de-gun back into the holster at his hip in a silence was so loud it almost pulses.

"Going to be a little awkward, without music," Roxanne says after a silent eternity of a moment.

Megamind lets out a breath. His eyes keep darting all around the room, everywhere but at her.

"—so are we gonna do this, or what?"

Voice too loud, her estimation of volume thrown off by the deafening silence. Megamind flinches again, fingers grasping at the edges of his cape. He swallows visibly, green eyes wide—takes a deep breath.

"Right!" he says, voice just as too-loud as hers. "Yes, of course; let's..."

Megamind takes a breath and then a step towards her. Her heart _lifts,_ exited, buzzing with nerves and anticipation but... Megamind looks a little like he is walking to his doom, flat, pinched mouth, wrinkled brow, heavy directionless gaze.

It isn't exactly doing good things for her confidence.

And then he's in front of her, leaning forward, head tilting and eyes slipping shut and Roxanne's mind fizzles into wild static and she tips her head towards his, lips parting and—

Megamind makes a noise like a harpsichord being dropped down a flight of stairs, and _scuttles_ away from her, backwards and sideways, leaving her standing there, off balance and staring at his back.

The elevator her stomach is on hits the bottom.

Megamind, back still towards her, presses a hand to his mouth, shakes his head back and forth sharply, and the remains of Roxanne's dignity, lying shredded around her, burst into furious flame.

 _"I knew it,"_ she hisses, not sure if she's more angry with him or with herself. "You _are_ bluffing."

He straightens his shoulders—she can almost hear his teeth grinding.

"I am _not_ ," he says.

He drops his hand from his mouth, clenches it in a fist at his side.

"No? Prove it. Get back over here and kiss me."

He whirls, cape swirling around him like black ink in water, eyes dark and furious, as though _he's_ the one with the right to be angry, here—

 _"Why?"_ a snarl, glare fixed on her face. "Why are you _doing this?"_

"I _told_ you—"

A sharp gesture of one black-gloved hand cuts her off.

 _"—no,"_ he says, "what you told me was _no_ , Miss Ritchi—"

"I know that; I told you I—"

"What, _changed your mind?"_ he says incredulously. "Just—went back home and thought to yourself _'huh, you know, on second thought, maybe I don't find the giant-headed blue supervillain completely repulsive after all—"_

"Repuls—I never said _repulsive!"_

"Why else would you say no?"

"I thought you were trying to trick me!"

" _Trick_ you? Why would I trick you about—"

"Because you know how I feel and—"

Oh.

Oh, no.

Shit. _Shitshitshit_ —

But it's too late, and she's staring at him now with eyes wide, feeling horribly exposed. Her face is _burning_ and her heart seems to have quit working somewhere along the line—

Megamind goes very still, then takes a slow, deliberate step towards her.

His eyes narrow, fixed like twin green lasers on her face.

"How you feel..." he repeats slowly.

A string of curses runs seamlessly through her mind and her heart slams against her ribs, as if trying to make up for its previous inactivity. Roxanne clenches her fists, trying to breathe; Megamind takes another step towards her and she backs up so fast she falls onto the bed with an undignified little bounce.

He stops, watches her through slitted eyes. Tilts his head to one side.

"How do you _feel_ , Miss Ritchi?" Low, silken voice.

 _Fuck._ Her fingers dug into the sheets.

Well.

Not like telling him the truth can make things any _worse_.

She takes a breath. Lets it out. Unclenches her fingers and rests her hands on her lap and looks up into his eyes.

"Megamind, I'm in love with you."

His expression— _shifts_ , face moving in the most rapid and dramatic change of expression she's ever seen it go through.

The familiar supervillain expression _melts_ , blue skin shading gray. His jaw drops open. No sound comes out.

And then his eyes roll back in his head and Roxanne barely scrambles up from the bed and makes it across the distance in time to catch him as he faints.


	2. Chapter 2

“You did _what?!”_

“Well, what else was I supposed to do, Sir? _You_ were _unconscious_ and _she_ was _really_ upset; she kept saying it was all her fault; but then she told me she didn’t do anything to you, but obviously she did _something_ ; she just wouldn’t say _what—”_

_“Minion!”_

“—so I loaded you into the back of the invisible car and took her home—”

 _“What?!”_ Megamind’s voice rises in an incredulous near-shriek of horror. “You put—why would you—!”

“She’d knocked you unconscious; of course I couldn’t just leave you here alone, Sir!”

Megamind makes a despairing noise and covers his face with both hands, nearly poking himself in the eye with the heartbeat monitor Minion clipped to his left index finger some time while he was out cold.

“She did not _knock me unconscious,_ Minion,” he says.

Oh, but how he wishes that she _had._ Things would be so much simpler, that way.

He remembers, wistfully, how much more sense the world had made, during that peaceful five-and-a-half seconds stretch of time immediately after he’d woken up in the Lair’s sickbay—

_The soothing sounds of the medical monitors beeping and whirring comfortingly away in the background, the instantly recognizable textures of his hospital gown and blanket, the familiar sailboat-shaped splotch of plaster on the ceiling directly above the bed…Megamind bobs gently to the surface of consciousness, recognizes where he is, and thinks,_

**** **_oh thank god it was a—_ **

**** **_(hallucination? nightmare?) something like that_ **

**** _not completely sure **what** it was, really, except for the singularly important, fundamentally vital aspect of **Not Something That Actually Happened** ; but it’s fine; everything is fine; he’s just—gotten another concussion during the battle at the_

_the_

_( f u c k f u c k fuck **fuck )**_

_the Metro Man…_

**_( f u c k )_ **

_…the Metro Man Museum_

**( F U C K )**

_“Sir! You’re awake! What happened; what did she do to you; **what did she do?”**_

**** _**(FUCK F U C K FUCK)**_

“—Minion,” Megamind says, hiding his face behind hands and heartbeat monitor, voice muffled. “Minion, I think I _fainted—”_

“—wh— _fainted—_ how—” Minion’s voice rises to a truly outraged pitch. “You had your snack! I watched you!”

Megamind peers out from between his own fingers to see Minion point an accusatory robotic finger at him.

“Have you been _insufficiently hydrated?”_ Minion demands. _“When was the last time you slept?”_

“Oh, not _that_ kind of fainting, Minion!” Megamind says, with what should be a wide, dramatic sweeping gesture of dismissal, except for the way his left hand gets pulled up short by the length of wire attached to its finger clip. _“Emotion.”_

“Emotion? What do you mean, ‘emotion’?” Minion says, moving in sharp, agitated motions in the suit’s headpiece, fins snapping out and in, bioluminescence flashing over his body in a threat display. “Was she _mean_ to you?”

_“No. Not that kind of emotion.”_

“Sir, that’s not—”

“Minion—” another gesture cut off by the wire; Megamind growls under his breath and yanks the clip from his finger, tosses it down on the bed beside him, and gestures _again._ “Honestly! _You!_ I stop paying attention to things for five minutes, and everything just goes to _pieces!_ I’m—”

“Five—paying—” Minion gurgles indignantly. “Sir, you were out cold for _six hours!”_

_“What?!”_

“Yes!”

“Why didn’t you _wake me up?!”_

“Wake you up?” Minion says. “You didn’t wake up when I put you in the back of the car; you didn’t wake up when I put you in the bed; if you’d been going to wake up naturally, you would have done it! How could I know it was _safe_ to wake you, Sir; she could have done _anything_ to you!”

“She didn’t _do anything_ to me!”

“Then why would you be unconscious for so long!” Minion surges forward in his headpiece, water sloshing against the glass, and narrows his eyes sharply at Megamind, “You _haven’t_ been sleeping! Have you!”

“That—that is _not_ the _point—”_ Megamind blusters hotly. “I—”

“—wouldn’t have been unconscious for so long if you’d been properly rested—”

“—as if things weren’t going to be bad enough already, _you_ had to go and make things worse, you—you—meddling, interfering— _lackwit_ _lackey_ of a henchfish—”

“Oh! Right! Blame _me!”_ Minion throws his robotic hands up aggrievedly. _“Interfering!_ Ha! I like that—I could have—what? Just left you passed out on the floor? What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know! Not this!” He claps both hands to his cheeks, drags them down his face. “This is just the—the worst possible—I don’t think things could get any—”

A small explosion of bricks and mortar—

—a Metro Man-shaped hole in the infirmary wall.

“You’re awake; finally, man; I’ve been waiting for _hours—”_

_“You called **Metro Man?”**_

Wayne winces at the shriek; Megamind points accusatorily at the backstabbing barracuda.

“Wh—no, I did not!”

“No, no,” Wayne says, still wincing. He puts a fingertip in one ear, twiddles it. “—should have turned off the superhearing _before_ coming in; I always forget how _screechy_ you can get—”

Megamind makes a shrill, loud noise of outrage; Wayne must have turned off his superhearing by now, though, because he just ignores it.

“What did you _do_ to Roxy?”

_“Do?”_

_"Him?”_

Wayne ignores both of their exclamations of outrage.

“She’s all upset and she won’t tell me what happened but clearly you did _something_ to her—”

 _“He_ wasn’t the one who did—”

_“OH MY GOD I AM NOT TALKING TO EITHER ONE OF YOU ABOUT THIS!”_

Megamind looks from hero to henchfish, from henchfish to hero, aghast.

“I—I _refuse_ to discuss my private, personal, emotional— _business—”_ he says, near hysterically, “with my—my—”

“—colleagues?” Wayne suggests.

“—my _nemesis_ and my _henchfish!”_

“Fine, fine; good,” Wayne says dismissively, “You can talk to _her—”_

He takes a step towards the bed, reaching for Megamind, who clutches the bedclothes to his chest protectively.

“Wh—don’t touch me!”

Wayne rolls his eyes.

“Oh, come on, little guy—”

“Little! Guy!” Megamind sputters. “That’s—”

“—just trying to help you out, here, buddy—”

“BUDDY!”

“Look—”

“You! You come _barging_ into my house—”

Megamind waves an arm wildly at the fresh hole in the wall; the creator of said hole has the audacity to look wounded.

“I told you; I’m here to help—”

“I! Don’t need! Your help!”

“—since whatever you did to Roxy went so wrong—”

“What _he_ did?” Minion puffs up in his headpiece, bioluminescence flashing indignantly. “I left them alone for two minutes and I come back to find him _unconscious—”_

“Wh—really?” Wayne blinks, clearly taken aback.

“Yes!” Minion says. “He was _fine_ when they left, and then before I know it, _she’s_ shouting down the hall for me and I get there and—”

 _this._ Megamind thinks dreamily. _this is like a nightmare. the fainting. the questions. he’s in a **hospital gown. METRO MAN IS HERE.** the only thing that would be worse is if—_

“—Minion,” Megamind says in sudden horror, “Minion, the Warden isn’t here, is he?”

Minion halts mid-harangue; he and Wayne turn to look at Megamind with identical expressions of bewilderment.

“I—wh—?”

“—the—?”

The two of them exchange a look of concern.

“Sir, are you sure you’re not sick? You’re not making a lot of sense—”

“Why would the _Warden_ be here?” Wayne asks, clearly mystified.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Megamind says, nearing hysteria. “WHY ARE _YOU_ HERE??”

“Look,” Wayne says, in a tone of what he he obviously thinks is noble magnanimity, “I know we’ve had our differences, you and me—”

“YOU THINK?”

“—but I really do wanna help you out, here.” He glances at Minion, then turns an earnest, beseeching look on Megamind, “Seriously, man, you gotta go talk to Roxy. Before she does something _real_ stupid.”

Megamind gives an angry hiss.

“You keep _saying_ that; what does that even _mean?”_

“Okay, okay, okay,” Wayne says, with a two-handed, conciliatory gesture. “It all started back at the observatory. Roxanne was kidnapped; I was gonna stop you. We were kind of going through the motions—and then Roxy called time-out. You shut the cameras down, the smoke dispersed, everybody went on with the museum opening like nothing ever happened.”

Megamind can feel a muscle in his eye starting to twitch.

“Fascinating as the events of your day may be,” he begins, but Wayne, still talking ignores him.

“Well, after the ceremony was done, I got to thinking—”

“—a novel experience for you, I’m sure—” Megamind says caustically.

“—wondering what happened between you two after she called the time-out. So, using my superhearing, I decided to listen in.”

“You _listened?!”_

_that’s it.  
_ _now more fooling around.  
_ _he’s going to have to figure out how to actually kill metro man._

“I tuned my ears towards Roxanne’s apartment. And I heard her on the phone—with a _moving company.”_ Metro Man looks between Megamind and Minion, inviting them to share in his bafflement. “What could I do? I went to her apartment to see what was up—and she wouldn’t talk to me; wouldn’t answer the door; just kept yelling at me to go away. When I flew around to her balcony, she _threw things_ at me until I left!”

“If only getting rid of you was that easy for _everyone,”_ Megamind mutters.

“Clearly,” Metro Man says, “something went wrong. So I put my ear to the wind to see if I could pick up on anything—any hint about what might have happened. And I heard you and Minion here talking, and I realized you must be talking about Roxy!”

He puffs out his chest, grinning as if this was some kind of ingenious deduction.

“And _that’s_ when I got the brilliant idea—to help you out!”

His smile turns to a serious expression; he takes a step towards Megamind and actually _puts a hand on his shoulder in a friendly manner._

“You see, little buddy—”

The shriek rises up in Megamind and bursts forth like a runaway train barrelling full speed ahead out of a tunnel and toward a cliff; even without his superhearing turned on, Wayne flinches and takes a step back, jerking his hand from Megamind’s shoulder. Minion, even through the glass and water of his suit’s headpiece, winces.

“OUT!”

Megamind rises up onto the hospital bed—the only way to make sure he’s not the shortest person in the room by a considerable margin. Wrapped in wrath and bedclothes, he points at the infirmary door with a dramatic gesture worthy of the angel of the eastern gate, expelling humanity from the garden of eden.

“Whoa—jeeze—”

“Sir—”

“OUT! BOTH OF YOU! _NOW!”_

Wayne opens his mouth as if he’s going to argue, but Minion, rolling his eyes, tugs his arm, pulling him towards the door.

“Come on, Mister Scott,” he says. “There’s no reasoning with him when he’s like this; you just have to wait for him to calm down.”

“Ohh,” Wayne says, nodding wisely, “like Roxy.”

“Exactly,” Minion says, then raises his voice. “You just have a nice rest, now, Sir we’ll come back and check on you in a while!”

Megamind makes an incoherent noise, mostly made up of gnashing teeth and strangling gestures.

“Feel better, little buddy!”

Megamind yanks the pillow from the hospital bed and throws it at them both, as hard as he can. Since the infirmary door has already slid shut behind them, though, the cushion only hits the glass with an unsatisfying _thwump_ before sliding to the floor.

Minion and Wayne, on the other side of the glass, exchange another of those infuriating concerned looks. Megamind growls under his breath, jumps down from the bed, still wrapped in the blanket, moves to the examination console, and _slams_ his hand down on the button that turns the transparent sliding glass doors of the infirmary opaque.

Then, with a low groan, he sinks to the floor to lean against the console, closes his eyes, clutching at his head.

_“—really that worried?”_

_“I think he might have had a heart attack and just doesn’t want to say.”_

_“Oh my god, really?”_

Low murmur of voices on the other side of the opaque infirmary wall; Megamind opens his eyes, slowly turns his head to look incredulously at the two hulking shadow shapes discussing his health.

_“Yeah; he’s just been under so much more stress lately.”_

_“Oh, wow—I had picked up on things being different lately but I had no idea it was so serious—”_

_“Well, I was worried enough when I found him unconscious; I ran all the scans and set up the health monitors and I couldn’t find anything specific.”_

_“Really, nothing?”_

_“But he didn’t wake up for hours, and then when he finally did—well. I heard the heartbeat monitor start **screeching** and when I looked over he was lying there with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling all rigid and blank, and he won’t say what happened.”_

The sound of a ham-sized hand patting a faux-fur covered metal shoulder comfortingly.

_“Hey, I’m sure the little guy’ll be all right—maybe it was just, you know—a weird dream that woke him up or something.”_

Minion heaves an audible sigh.

_“Thanks. It’s just so hard getting him to take care of himself sometimes, you know? I made a beautiful roast last week and he couldn’t hardly eat any of it.”_

_“Roast?”_ Wayne’s’s voice sounds extremely interested in this information.

 _“With potatoes,”_ Minion says mournfully. _“He couldn’t even eat very many potatoes.”_

Wayne makes a sympathetic noise, but it’s clear his mind is on other things. After a momentary silence—

_“So…there’s, uh, a lot of that…roast…left, then…”_

Minion gives an unhappy sigh of assent.

_“We’ll never be able to finish it all before it goes bad; I’ll have to freeze it, or cube it, but, really, food is never quite the same after that.”_

Wayne makes another, more focused noise of sympathy. Another, even more momentary silence—

_“Hey, uh—if you’re looking to get rid of some of that roast, I could, you know, help you guys out!”_

_“Oh!”_ Minion sounds inordinately pleased at this _heroic_ suggestion. _“Do you like barbeque? I could make up a sandwich!”_

Wayne takes a deep breath.

 _“I,”_ he says in the tones of a man who cannot believe his luck, _“would **love** a barbeque sandwich.”_

_“Good! Well, let’s just head to the kitchen; I’ll see what else I can find to…”_

The voices—and the two pairs of clomping footsteps—fade off into the distance as their owners move away down the hall.

Megamind reaches out, takes hold of his recently-thrown pillow, buries his face in it, and shrieks.

_jesusgodhowisthishappeningtohim_

Panting for breath, he takes the pillow from his face, eyes roving over the room, its contents, only half-aware of what he’s seeing, cataloguing, but—

He rises up from the floor with a precarious wobble, recovers his balance, and moves towards the array of medical machines blinking and whirring softly beside the bed, opening a drawer in the desk on the way and retrieving the spare screwdriver he keeps in there.

Swiftly, without hesitation, he flips switches, presses buttons, powering various machines down, and then, once he has the ones he wants off, he takes the screwdriver to panels, metals arms, power boxes. He guts the machines efficiently, exposing their innards and then quickly removing the parts he wants.

Gears and wires, batteries and dials—everything he needs removed from their former places and set neatly on the floor in front of him in two mosaic-like arrangements—a sunburst kind of design to his left side and another to his right. Identical collections of parts, each cog in the righthand-side mosaic matched by a twin in the lefthand-side mosaic; every gear in the lefthand mosaic duplicated in the righthand one; all of the electrodes and springs and screws doubled.

Hands moving automatically, he finishes scavenging parts and shoves the remains of the half-disassembled medical machines out of the way.

_—fucking **Metro Man** and his goddamn superhearing Wayne **would** just **listen in—**_

The machines take shape beneath his hands, built simultaneously from the ground up, swift fingers and deft twists of the screwdriver, brain only partially focused on what he’s doing—

_—power source, tympanic resonator, amplification chamber—_

— _before she_ _does something really stupid_ , Wayne had said, whatever the hell _that_ meant; Megamind is hard pressed to imagine. Roxanne doesn’t really do _stupid—_ unexpected, yes, unpredictable, all right, inadvisable, okay—

This, today, has to top the list of totally unexpected things that Roxanne has ever, to his knowledge, done. He can’t imagine _why_ she—

_(Megamind I’m in—)_

The screwdriver in his hand slips out of the grooves of the screw he’s tightening; he nearly stabs himself with it.

Nope nope nope he can’t think that it can’t be true can’t be—

_(Megamind I’m—)_

A wave of lightheadedness sweeps through him; Megamind shudders and sets the tip of the screwdriver back into the head of the screw with shaking hands.

Right right okay right! not thinking! about that! because it doesn’t make any _sense_ ; she said _no,_ before! Emphatically. Uncompromisingly. **NO.**

So Roxanne turning around, after so much time had passed, and then saying that she’d _changed her mind?_ it just doesn’t make any kind of sense, not just unexpected but inexplicable, _bizarre_ —

The screwdriver slips again; this time he does slightly stab himself with it, though, thankfully, not hard enough to break the skin of his leg.

_shit. fuck. **shit—**_

_Before she does something really stupid_ , Wayne said, and Minion had described Roxanne as oddly upset, had admitted she’d given two different, conflicting statements—that she hadn’t done anything, but that it had been all her fault, and had it ever occurred to Minion to _notice_ that Roxanne was _behaving erratically_ , had he thought to check _her_ vitals, tempterature, heartbeat? No, of course it hadn’t, because the single-minded, bull-headed _clownfish_ had been too busy _embarassing Megamind forever and all of eternity_

Megamind growls in frustration and twists a wire swiftly into place.

Should he—

No. No, he’s not going to get Minion, even if Minion is the expert when it comes to _health crises_ ; Minion is having _barbeque_ with _Metro Man_ and if Megamind goes down to the kitchen, they’ll want him to _explain_ things and then of course they’ll _all_ have to go to Roxanne’s, and Minion and Wayne will be, respectively, standing around hovering, and _hovering_ around hovering, while Megamind attempts to _talk to Roxanne_ and NO. NOPE. ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY NOT.

Megamind presses the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and then slides his hands down his face.

hell. okay. all right.

He turns his attention to the two half-built machines, attacks them with determined vigor.

But—well, he’s too sure of their structure; there’s not enough mental challenge in their construction to truly hold his attention and his thoughts are again jerked back to _Roxanne_ and _what can be **wrong** with her—_

Along with ‘stupid’, Wayne had mentioned something about a _moving company_ which doesn’t make any sense.

Okay, true, _his_ plan, after the whole _original_ debacle of the kidnapping card offer, had been to flee the country, yes—

Convinced he’d never live down the shame of it, he’d been all set to pack his bags and take up residence inside a volcano in Hawaii—really the ideal set-up for a villain, a volcano converted to an evil lair; aside from the general ambience of destruction, it also discouraged visitors, a really _essential_ aspect, considering the fact that he never wanted to see another person’s face ever, ever again. And! as an added bonus, it had a built-in backup plan for avoiding any unwanted guests, in a handy, easily accessible, very jump-into-able pyroclastic lava flow!

Minion had only just barely managed to stop him from departing the continent forever by insisting _no, listen; Sir, it’ll be fine; all we have to do is just **pretend it never happened.** never speak of it again._

 ** _just—what?_** Megamind had said, with near-hysterical scorn, **_act like everything is_ normal?**

Minion nodded his entire body inside his suit’s headpiece.

_Yes, Sir. just that. act like everything is normal._

**_…and then what?_** Megamind asked, **_things will just—just—_ go back to normal?**

Still unconvinced, but he’d paused in the act of stuffing dehydrated cubes of giant robots into a backpack.

Minion smiled a wide and reassuring smile—possibly just a fraction _too_ wide and just a smidge _too_ confidently soothing. He reached out and gently removed the backpack, and the de-gun, from Megamind’s unprotesting hands.

_Yes, Sir._

_And then things will go back to normal._

And, wonder of wonders, they _had_ gone back to normal.

Until _today._

It had been terrible, immediately after he…asked and she said _no._ that horrible, sickening sensation, the feeling of _oh god what did I just **do**_ , a kind of panicked nausea, wanting to throw up, wanting to flee—

(moving company)

—was that—had she, well, _come back to her senses_ sometime during the six hours between Megamind’s fainting fit and his awakening, come back to her senses sufficiently to make her see the full horror of _oh god what did I just do—?_

Because if _that’s_ the problem, then…

_Miss Ritchi, I fully understand—_

_Miss Ritchi, you don’t need to worry—_

_Miss Ritchi, we never need to speak of this again, we’ll just agree to forget it all, we’ll just—pretend it never happened, and—_

And everything can go back to normal.

Megamind twists the final screw of the first machine into place, and then tightens the final screw of the second.

_there._

He sits back on his heels, regarding his creations with grim satisfaction. Identical machines, rectangular, each one a little bigger than a shoebox. Metal, simple smooth panels on all sides save the front of each box, where speakers are embedded. A single dial atop each box.

Megamind twists the dial of the box on the left, places his hand flat on the top of the box, feeling the vibration as the machine turns silently on.

Silent. Yes. _Exactly._

That was just what each box was designed to emit— _silence_ , broadcasted continuously on the frequency of Metro Man’s superhearing.

He nods, sharply, opens one of the drawers of the desk, and puts the already-transmitting Shushmachine inside, shuts the drawer. Standing, he, retrieves the emergency Medscanner gun from the opposite drawer, picks up the still-inert Shushmachine2 and tucks it under his arm.

_Evil has just sent **itself** to Quiet Time, thank you **very** much_

With a flourish, he takes hold of the corner of the fallen sheet, snaps it up into the air, and swirls it around himself like a cape in a single smooth motion.

Determinedly, he strides through the Metro-Man-shaped hole in the infirmary wall towards freedom.

“…oh, for _fuck’s_ sake.”

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Megamind stalks through the _series_ of Metro-Man-shaped holes in _every_ wall leading to the outside of the Lair.

This day just keeps getting _better and better._


End file.
